


Worried

by orphan_account



Category: Dissidia: Final Fantasy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:01:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Squall knows something's up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worried

Squall snuck another glance at the mimic. He had been acting strangely the entire time they were traveling. He was still talking his ear off and engaging in friendly competitions with Zidane, but something was off.

His usual grace was missing, having stumbled almost imperceptibly a couple of times already. He was also slower than normal, in that he was walking anything even remotely close to slow. Bartz was energetic and constantly moving, yet he had come to a full stop to catch his breath several times in the past hour. He needed to check on him, but Bartz seemed determined to keep whatever was wrong a secret from them.

When Zidane took off ahead of them, Bartz stopping to catch his breath again, Squall easily caught up to him and grabbed his arm to keep him from taking off.

“What’s wrong?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked breathlessly, and Squall’s eyes narrowed. He had seen him do much harder feats without even being winded. Now that he was closer, he could see light pink dusting his cheeks. He sighed and bit down on the tip of one of his gloves to pull it off. Squall then laid his now bare hand on Bartz’s forehead and pulled his hand back immediately with a hiss when he felt the burning skin.

“You have a fever,” he stated with a glare. Bartz looked away with a guilty expression before turning back. Before he could say anything, Squall cut him off with, “Don’t lie to me.” The mime’s mouth snapped closed and he looked down. “Bartz,” he started, and he turned big brown eyes up to look at him, a light pout on his features and if Squall didn’t know any better, he’d say he was doing it on purpose.

He sighed indulgently and put his glove back on. “You can’t keep exerting yourself this way until you feel better.” His tone left no room for argument and Bartz nodded.

“But, it’s not like we can just stop and rest.”

Squall seemed to ponder this before he turned and bent slightly for Bartz to get on his back.

“Get on.”

“Huh?” He couldn’t help himself. It looked like Squall was offering him a piggyback ride.

“Get on my back.”

He was.

Bartz was about to ask another question, but Squall sent him an irritable look over his shoulder. He smiled and clambered onto the SeeD’s back, burying his face in the crook of his neck and shoulder when Squall hooked his arms under Bartz’s legs.

Bartz closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in as much of Squall’s scent as possible. He always found his presence soothing, but opportunities to be this close to him were obviously rare. He heard who he assumed to be Zidane running back to them and felt Squall stop walking. It made sense. They hadn’t been gone long, but a few minutes were all it took for manikins to attack.

“What’s wrong with Bartz?”

He could just imagine tail swaying back and forth, a curious expression on his face.

“He has a fever.”

Their voices were slowly getting quieter and farther away, their conversation getting more muffled.

“Is he going to be okay?”

Bartz thought so. He was just sleepy and a little hot.

“He just needs rest.”

Bartz didn’t hear Zidane teasing him, since he had fallen asleep, completely relaxed so close to Squall.


End file.
